


Wrong Place, Wrong Time

by GoodJanet



Category: Baby Driver (2017), Mad Men
Genre: Blackmail, Cunnilingus, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Threesome, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11478039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet
Summary: Don sleeps with the wrong woman. Now he has to pay the price.





	1. Chapter 1

“Wake up,” a voice says.

Don doesn’t open his eyes. His head hurts, and he can tell it’s morning. He doesn’t want to face the reality of his situation. That he went out, drank himself blind, went home with who knows what woman. God, what if this was her husband?

“Wake up,” the voice repeats.

The man sounds angry, and Don knows he has to face the music eventually. He slowly sits up and tries to keep himself from puking. He takes quick stock of himself and notes that he’s at least still clothed. Well mostly. He’s definitely in a bed. He opens his eyes.

There was a man sitting next to him on the edge of the bed. He looked pissed. Shit. And he even looked—

“Who are you?” the man asks him.

“I’m—”

“By the way, I will shoot you in the kneecaps if you lie to me. So choose your words wisely.”

The man pulls a pistol out of his shoulder holster and cocks it.

“I’m Don. Don Draper.”

The man looks him in the eye for a long moment. He nods.

“And just what, exactly, are you doing in my house, in my bed?”

Don blinks and looks around the room, trying to piece together the events of last night. Every memory is a warm blur of color until there is just nothingness.

“I—I don’t remember. I had a lot to drink. I should go.”

The man looks like he’s going to say something else when a woman wearing nothing but Don’s white button down appears in the doorway. Shit.

“Is he awake?” she asks.

“Barely, Darling. He looks sicker than a dog. I swear to god, if he throws up on these sheets, I’ll kill him.”

“I know you would, Buddy.”

“I’m so sorry for imposing. Really, I’ll go, and you won’t have to worry about hearing from me ever again. I swear,” Don says.

“Buddy, you can’t kick your own brother out.”

“Brother?” Don and Buddy say.

Darling laughs.

“You mean to tell me this hunk right here isn’t your twin?” Darling asks. “You think they just make copies of you at a factory, Buddy?”

That’s when Don takes a good long look at the man. Dark hair, blue-green eyes, strong jaw. But there was something different about this man. He had another layer to him that Don (hoped) he didn’t have. This man was dangerous.

“Despite what my wife thinks about our appearances, I still can’t let you just walk out of here after you fucked her.”

Don feels his heartrate pick up. Buddy still had his gun out.

“Look, I can pay you. Whatever it will take to make this go away. I have means,” Don says.

“Oh, so you think I can’t provide for my woman, is that it?” Buddy asks.

Darling walks into the room and puts herself between Don and Buddy. Don scoots closer to the other side, prepared to bolt if need be. He stays very still for now, not wanting to attract the attention of the couple. Buddy’s jaw locks.

Darling cups Buddy’s face in her hands. Surprisingly, it seems to calm him somewhat.

“Buddy, this is such a great opportunity for us. We'll never find an easy target than this. If we bring him a man on the inside?”

After she tells him her idea, his face softens once more, and he holsters his gun. Buddy stands and turns to face Don.

“It’s your lucky day, Don. You get to walk out of here without the help of a coroner’s stretcher.”

Don stays silent. Darling makes to hold Don’s hand, happy at the news that her conquest would not have to die after all. Don pulls away.

“What’s the catch?” Don asks.

“Well, when you promise two criminals the world, you’d better be able to follow through. You’re gonna meet a friend of ours today. And you can tell him all about your means and how we can get them. Do you understand?”

Don’s eyes flash to Darling, and she smiles and nods. She was acting as though Don had decided where they should eat rather than deciding to commit corporate blackmail.

“I do.”

Buddy smiles, and there’s a sharp edge to the corners.

“Good,” he says. “Get dressed.”


	2. Chapter 2

Buddy removes his blindfold once they walk into the abandoned factory. Buddy launches into an explanation before Don can even open his mouth.

“Well, Don, you’re officially involved," Buddy says, "whether you like it or not, so you’d better take a seat and start answering my questions.”

Don sits in the chair that Buddy indicates to. He puts his hat on the table in front of him and pulls his cigarettes and lighter out. He closes his eyes, takes a deep drag, blows the smoke out slowly to steady himself, and breathes. He opens his eyes and looks right at the couple who is holding them hostage.

“What do you want to know?”

Don feels Buddy and Darling watching him from across the table as he answers their questions in as little detail as possible. He can feel the arousal coming off of Darling in waves, and he’s not sure if it’s because of him or if that’s just what she’s like all the time. When she starts giving Buddy open-mouthed kisses, he guesses it’s the latter. Buddy is harder to read. Don’s pretty sure he’ll want him dead once they’ve got SCDP’s money. But there’s something in the way Buddy’s looking at him that makes Don feel exposed.

“I’ve been in advertising for fifteen years.”

“Advertising, hm? Lucrative. What firm?” Darling asks.

“Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce.”

Would he be able to contact Roger in time to warn him? He didn’t see a phone anywhere.

“Never heard of it. What do you sell?”

“Life cereal. Mohawk airlines. We recently signed on with Jaguar.”

Buddy slams his fist onto the table. Don pulls back and even Darling jumps.

“Do you think I was fucking born yesterday?”

Don’s brows furrow.

“Excuse me?” Don asks.

“For one fucking thing, Mohawk airlines went under in 197-fucking-2.”

Don blinks.

“What?”

Darling rolls his eyes with her whole body. She slaps a hand over his face.

“Fuck Christ.”

“Excuse me?” Don asks, standing. 

He could tell things could get ugly here very quickly, and he was not about to get caught in the crosshairs.

“Wait.”

It was time for Don to do what he did best.

“Look, I don’t know what I’ve stumbled into here, but I have access to what you want. You want money, fine. I can cut a check. I can get the cash. You think I’m bullshitting you, I’m not. What’s there to gain from lying here? A bullet in my head? And where does that leave you? You have a demand, and I have the supply. Give me a few days to get things together, and you’ll see that it was worth your while.”

Already Don can feel the tension in the room ease. Buddy relaxes their shoulders, and Buddy takes a step back. He wraps his arm around Darling, and she rests her head on his hip.

“Alright, Don. You’ve piqued my interest. You’ve got three days. That payload had better be worth every penny.”

Buddy extends his hand.

Finally. Something remotely familiar.

Don shakes it.

“Let's get him out of here,” Buddy says to Darling. “And don’t let him out of your sight.”

Darling grins.

“Wouldn’t think of it.”


	3. Chapter 3

“If I’m going to be working with you, I’m not putting that on again,” Don says when they get back to Buddy and Darling’s apartment and remove his blindfold once more.

“Fair enough,” Buddy says. “You hungry, Don?”

Don puts his hat on an end table and drapes his coat over the arm of the couch when he sees no coatrack or hooks. Don looks around the room, hoping to catch sight of a bottle.

“I’d rather have something to drink.”

Darling snorts and hooks a thumb over her shoulder at Don as she saunters into the bedroom.

“I like this guy,” she says.

“That’s obvious,” Buddy says, eyes locked on Don.

Don hears the shower run.

Buddy walks into the kitchen, leaving Don alone in the living room. He feels very out of place. Would anyone wonder where he was? Would they just assume he was off cavorting in California again? He still wasn’t even sure where he was, and Don’s comment about Mohawk hadn’t been sitting well with him since they left the factory.

Don walks into the kitchen after Buddy, determined to get some answers. He felt he was entitled to know at least something about what he had gotten himself into.

Buddy looks up from the frying pan when Don enters the kitchen. He’s frying eggs, and Don can see bread toasting in the toaster.

“What can I do for you, Don?” he sardonically asks.

“I have some questions.”

Buddy gives a humorless chuckle.

“I’ll bet you do. Whiskey’s in the cabinet over the sink. Glasses are one cabinet over.”

Don follows the directions, pours himself half a glass, and sits at the table, facing Buddy’s muscular back.

“You like to hit the sauce pretty hard,” Buddy observes.

“It’s one of my many unfortunate habits.”

Buddy laughs a little, but this time it sounds more genuine.

“You know, under different circumstance, I think I’d like you,” Buddy says.

“I’ll drink to that.”

Don doesn’t see Buddy’s lips quirk at the corners.

Buddy grabs two plates and puts two fried eggs on each plate. He butters the toast when they pop up, and he pours a glass of whiskey for himself. He takes his plate—Don assumes the other one is for Darling—and a fork and joins Don at the table.

“What’s on your mind, Don?”

Don takes a drink and grimaces. He leans back in his chair.

“I don’t like to pry into a man’s business and personal life, but seeing as I’m now involved, I think I should know what your line of business is.”

Buddy takes a bite.

“We’re mostly into armed robbery. Banks, jewelry stores. You’ve probably see the news in the papers recently.”

Don’s brows momentarily shoot up. He takes another drink.

“I haven’t. You’d think that’d be front news stuff in New York.”

“New York?”

“Isn’t this Manhattan?”

Buddy looks incredulous.

“Fucking hell, I thought you were just pulling our leg with the bullshit about Mohawk and Jaguar. You can’t be hitting the drink _that_ hard and still be this coherent. What else are you on?”

Don sucks in his cheeks and opens his hands so their palm up.

“All I know is that when I went out last night in Manhattan in 1968, and I woke up here.”

Buddy picks up his fork again and resumes eating.

“Man, how fucking long where you blacked out for? I didn’t think they sold plane tickets to passengers who were that bombed.”

Don blinks.

“Excuse me?”

“I hate to break it to you, but this is Atlanta, and it’s 2017.”

Don feels his stomach swoop like he’s just dropped twenty stories in an elevator.

“Let me use your phone. I need to call someone.”

Buddy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small metal rectangle. He taps the front of it with his thumbs and hands it out to Don. Don stares and lifts his chin at it.

“What the hell is that?”

“You said you needed to make a call, didn’t you?”

“I asked to use your phone, yes.”

Buddy’s arm drops.

“Jesus fuck, you’re either strung out on something new or you really are from 1968.”

Before Don can answer, Darling walks into the kitchen in a short, pink silk bathrobe with her damp hair hanging loose around her shoulders. Don stands, a reflex of gentlemanly behavior that even time travel could not quash. She leans down to give Buddy a kiss before grabbing her dish from the counter.

“Smells good, baby. You hungry, Don?”

Don sits when she does. Darling tucks her feet under her like Sally does, and Don has to restrain himself from telling her to sit properly at the table.

“No, thank you.”

Don takes a long drink.

Darling looks from Buddy to Don, trying to decipher what she had missed while she was in the shower.

“What’s going on?”

Don sighs. He pulls out his cigarettes and lighter.

“Lucky Strike?” Buddy asks. “Really?”

Don eyes him annoyance over his hands as he cups one around the flame until the end of the cigarette is lit.

“My grandfather used to smoke those,” Darling says.

Don flicks his lighter closed and pockets it and his pack.

“What year were you born, Don?” Buddy asks.

Don takes a long drag and releases the smoke from his lungs in a breathy exhale. Darling leans forward in interest.

“1925.”

“So you’re what, a time traveler?” she asks.

Don shrugs.

“I don’t know.”

Darling runs her hand over Don’s and then up his arm; her eyes glint with interest. Don watches Buddy watch her. He doesn’t move.

“Have you always been this mysterious, Mr. Draper?”

She looks him in the eye like she wants to devour him.

“Darling,” Buddy says sternly.

She pulls her hand away and sits back in her seat. Don takes another drag.

“Look, I don’t know who the fuck you are or where the fuck you come from, and to be honest, I don’t really care,” Buddy says. “All I care about is whether or not you fucking deliver because if you don’t, you will live to regret it.”

Don finishes off drink.


	4. Chapter 4

Don tells them everything he remembers from the night before and a little bit about SCDP. But he’s careful. He was in the army, and he knows what it’s like to have G-men breathing down his back. And hell, his whole business is the definition of appeasement, so they seem to take him at his word.

“Baby, I think that’s enough interrogating for one day,” Darling says, yawning.

Don doesn’t say anything. He can’t remember the last time he talked this much about anything, let alone himself.

“You tired, Don?” Buddy asks.

Buddy’s sprawled out on the living room couch with Darling halfway into his lap. Don sits opposite them in the loveseat. He lights a cigarette.

“It’s been a long day,” Don admits.

“That it has,” Buddy agrees. “It’s already past dinner.”

“I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“Is that how you stay so trim?” Darling asks. “Skipping meals?”

“I’m fine,” Don says.

Buddy smirks.

“You look like you’re ready to pass out.”

Don shrugs and takes another drink.

“Don can sleep with us, right, Buddy?”

Buddy looks lovingly down at his wife, who was currently resting her head on his chest.

“I can sleep out here,” Don says.

Buddy’s head snaps back up.

“You think I was born yesterday? What’s to stop you from bolting?”

Don opens his hands palms up.

“Nothing.”

All of Buddy’s muscles tense and shift, and Don braces himself for a fight. He already knows they’re armed; he tries to remember the training he went through in the army if he was ever taken captive.

Darling spins in his embrace and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t hurt him, Buddy. He’s been so good today. You know you’d do the same if you were him.”

“You’re lucky my wife likes you so much.”

“He’s your twin, baby,” Darling continues.

Buddy rolls his eyes.

“You just want to fuck him again.”

Darling pouts. She runs a finger from the neck of his shirt up his jawline before wrapping her hand around the left side of his face and kissing him deeply. Don’s almost sure they’ve forgotten he’s even here, but he doesn’t move. They’re mesmerizing.

“Is that so bad? Don’t you want him too?”

Buddy looks over her shoulder, and he locks eyes with Don. He drags his fingertips down Darling’s back until he reaches her ass. He squeezes her rear and pulls her into him, causing her to release a bitten-off moan.

“See something you like, Don?”

Darling looks over her shoulder at him with smoldering eyes, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants.

“I think that would be a bad idea,” Don says.

Buddy snorts.

“That certainly didn’t stop either of you last night.” Darling starts grinding in his lap. “Tell me you’re not interested. I dare you.”

Don watches her. He watches her shake her head, and he watches her hair cascade down her back. He watches the swell of her breasts jiggle a little with each motion she makes. He watches Darling bite her lips and dig her nails into Buddy’s white cotton tee.

Don’s mouth goes dry. There’s no point in lying.

“She’s gorgeous,” Don says. “You’re lucky.”

“You’ve got a ring on your finger. Are you unlucky?”

Don thinks of Megan. Was she worried? Did she think he’d run out on her again? What was he saying, to her, he’s been gone for nearly fifty years. She probably thought he was dead.

“No, but she is.”

“Baby, Don misses his girl. We gotta cheer him up, don’t you think?”

She slowly unfurls herself from the couch and stands. She takes Buddy by the hand, and he stands too. Buddy looks down at Don, still sitting in the loveseat.

“Well?”


	5. Chapter 5

Don feels like his only option is to follow the couple into the bedroom, but it’s not like they have to twist his arm. Somehow they stay connected while sauntering out of the living room and down the hall to their bedroom.

Darling pushes Buddy onto the bed, and Don sits on the cushy settee under the window. He puffs on his cigarette as he watches them move against each other. He notices how he lets her take the lead, and how much they both seem to love that. Their eyes are locked in on each other, almost like they’ve forgotten about inviting Don along.

They haven’t.

“Baby,” Darling chokes.

Buddy grunts a, “What?” before letting his hand slither up her calf to her thigh and up under her skirt.

“What about Don?”

Buddy grins against her breasts, and his hand does something that makes her gasp.

“He misses his girl,” she repeats.

Don swallows and shifts in his seat. He’d have to be unconscious not to find the scene in front of him hot as hell. He’s hard, but he wouldn’t dare do anything that would trigger the jealousy in Buddy that he had seen this morning. Don was fully prepared to jerk off in the shower when they’d finally fallen asleep, but the prospect of joining them is even better.

“You heard her, Don. Get over here.”

Don stands and stamps out his cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand. He kicks off his shoes and slips his tie off, letting it fall to the floor in a soft lump of silk. Don looks up once he’s done undoing the buttons on his shirt, and he sees that they’ve been watching him. Even Buddy was watching him. Don didn’t think they’d have eyes for anyone but each other.

Buddy’s still rubbing his wife, and she’s got her hand down his unzipped pants, but they slow their movements as he shrugs out of his dress shirt and trousers and climbs onto the bed nearest to Darling. She shivers.

“What do you want?” Buddy husks.

He’s clearly asking Darling, so Don keeps quiet. He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and she shivers again. It’s intoxicating how receptive to touch she is.

“I want his mouth while you watch me, baby.”

He grips her chin between his thumb and pointer finger and pulls her into a kiss. It’s sloppy and openmouthed, and Don wishes he could kiss her like that too. He hopes Buddy will let him go down on her. Buddy gently pulls away.

“Okay, sweetheart. I can’t say no to you when you look like that.”

She smiles broadly and lies back. She wriggles excitedly, and Buddy reluctantly rolls off of her.

“Can I?” Don asks.

He’s afraid to say anything more, but he hopes that putting his hands on her knees is explicit enough.

“Fuck yes!” she squeals.

Wordlessly, he pulls her panties down her legs until her lower half is completely bared to him. And then she spreads her legs.

“Jesus,” Don mutters before bringing his mouth to her cunt.

He licks and kisses and nips, spurred on by her nails on his scalp and the gentle moans that get louder and louder as he works her up. She tastes like musk and soap and sweat, and he wants more and more and more. She’s so responsive that Don has to remember that they’re not alone, and he should be careful not to forget himself while he’s here. He does, however, forget his own arousal in favor of her needs.

He pauses halfway through to breathe, and she opens her eyes. He looks up at her, like he wants her approval. Don's eyes are glassy and slightly unfocused, pupils wide as he wonders what she'll do, what Buddy will do, if he doesn’t do this right. She runs a hand through his hair again. It’s the instruction he needs.

He doesn’t dare stop again until she comes against his tongue with a rather loud shout, her head thrown back, hands fisted in his short black hair, eyes squeezed shut.

“Holy shit,” she breathes when Don pulls away.

Buddy stares at him hungrily while he’s still dazed and looking at her like she was the best dessert he’s ever had. Before Don knows what’s happening, a pair of lips are fastened onto his, licking the taste of her out of his mouth while hands hold his head and neck in place. 

It’s a foreign feeling, having a man’s tongue in his mouth, and Don pushes at Buddy’s shoulders until Buddy backs off.

“What is it?” Buddy asks, annoyance creeping into his voice.

“I’m not—” Don struggles to find the right words. His head is still a jumble from arousal and nerves. He’s never been in a situation like this before. “I’m not queer.”

Darling snorts.

“Oh my god, you really are from the ‘60s, aren’t you?”

Don looks at a loss.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I—”

“Relax, Don.” Buddy claps a hand on his shoulder. “I doubt Darling will mind. Right, honey?”

They’re back to cuddling again, and Don is once more acutely aware of how hard he is and how hot and wet Darling is. He can see she’s glistening in the light from the street. He wants nothing more than to push Buddy aside and give in to the tempting spread of her thighs.

Buddy’s sucking on her neck and practically swallows her ear. He’s making wet sounds with his lips against her skin that somehow isn’t putting Don off in the slightest. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, and Buddy climbs in between her legs.

“My turn,” Buddy growls.


	6. Chapter 6

It’s the second time he’s awoken in their bed, but this time things are much more amicable. Darling is asleep between them, curled up against Buddy’s chest, face flush against his chest. But she’s partially bent at her waist, sticking her ass right into Don’s crotch, and he wonders if she hadn’t done that on purpose. He opens his eyes to find Buddy watching him.

“Morning,” Don murmurs.

“Good morning.”

Don wonders how long the other man has been awake, staring at him. What was he thinking? What was he planning? Don wishes he had more answers, but he knows he’s in no position to be asking questions. Whatever had happened last night didn’t change the fact that Buddy and Darling were expecting him to deliver all of SC&P’s money over to him.

“I’m gonna shower.”

Buddy tilts his chin, indicating towards the en suite.

“Through there.”

Don nods a thank you.

The warm water is a balm, and he instantly relaxes. The spray clears his head enough to allow him to think over exactly what had happened to him over the past forty-eight hours. If only everything wasn’t so fuzzy. 

Last night was clear though. _That_ he can recall in perfect detail. Darling kept going on and on about how he and Buddy were “twins” and “meant to be.” He remembers Buddy grabbing his face and kissing him roughly, his beard scraping and burning against his cheeks. It was Darling’s idea.

Buddy was still inside her, and she’d just said, “Please,” and he knew exactly what she meant. Like they shared the same brain or something. Because he didn’t ask her what she meant; he’d merely slowed down and pulled him in before Don knew what was happening.

Don moans at the memory, and it snaps him out of his reverie. He was starting to get hard.

“Not the time…” he mutters to himself.

The bathroom door opens and closes. It’s Buddy.

“Come to see if I went down the drain?” Don asks.

“More like to make sure you hadn’t slit your wrists.”

Don hears him undress and sees the shadow of his clothes hitting the floor on the other side of the shower curtain. Don bites the inside of his cheek when Buddy climbs in with him.

“Is there something you wanted?” Don asks without turning around.

“There are some things we need to talk about.”

Buddy reaches his arm past him to grab a dangling washcloth and a bottle of Old Spice.

“And you thought we should do that here.”

Buddy squirts the soap onto the washcloth and replaces the bottle into its spot on the shelf. Don doesn’t say anything, waiting patiently for Buddy to say what he came here to say, when he feels the rough material of the cloth run across his back in a gentle swipe.

Don flinches away, and Don can almost _hear_ the smirk on Buddy’s face.

“Just relax. I’m only here to talk.”

Enough was enough. Don turns around, arms folded.

“I know you won’t be able to get the money you promised us.”

Don’s arms drop.

“That’s what I thought,” Buddy continues. “I don’t know anything about time travel or alternate dimensions, but I do know that you’re not from around here in any sense of the word.”

“So what now? You came in here to kill me?”

“Switch places with me. I need to soap up.” Wordlessly, Don does, and he tries not to watch as suds covers every limb. “What gave it away was not knowing how to use my phone. Now Darling thinks it’s an act. That you’ll do anything to get out of coughing up the cash. But no one can fake it that good.”

“This can’t—I can’t be in the future. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? How would that even happen? Look, you have to let me try and contact my people.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea.”

“You do?”

Buddy smiles.


	7. Chapter 7

When Don and Buddy step out of the bedroom, Darling gasps and drops her phone onto the couch cushions. For there was Don, outfitted in Buddy’s clothes: dark jeans and a fitted grey tee shirt paired with a pair of black sneakers and socks. Buddy had even gone so far as to style Don’s hair in a way that mimicked his own undercut.

Though she had only known the man for a few days, she could tell from his awkward stance that he was unhappy with the changes to his wardrobe. She decides he needed some reassurance.

“Honey, you look so good! Don’t be nervous.”

She climbs off the couch and walks over to him on her mile-high legs. Don stays frozen in place as she rests her wrists on his shoulders and leans in for a deep kiss that he cannot help but reciprocate, although he is careful to keep his hands to himself.

“Alright,” Buddy says.

There’s an edge to his voice that Darling respects, so she backs off with a grin.

“This is going to be fun!” she says.

“You ever fired a gun before, Don?”

Don nods.

“When I was in Korea, but not since.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Don shakes his head, and immediately begins patting himself, looking for his cigarettes. 

“Here,” Buddy says.

He snags them off the end table and hands the pack and the lighter to Don.

“Thanks.”

His hands shake as he lights it, trying not panic at the thought of robbing a bank—or at least attempting to. It was the last thing he needed on his record, although he wasn’t sure if he even had one in 2017. His papers back home were all lies anyway, so he’s not sure why it should make a difference now.

“What’s wrong?” Buddy asks. “Are you gonna quit on me?”

“Don’s not going to quit on us, Buddy. He’s smart enough to know that we don’t make empty threats.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. Mothers and children are going to be in there. They’re just running errands.”

“And so are we. If you get the money for us, your debt will be forgiven and then we can focus on getting you back home.”

“Good old 1968.”

“’69,” Don corrects.

“Is Sharon Tate still alive then?” Darling asks.

Don makes a face.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Buddy interrupts. “Just focus on the plan, and it’ll be over before you even know it. Like a shot.”


End file.
